Dragonborn & Discriminated
by Elder Soul
Summary: Jan-Tu IV is a hardened Argonian with a fiery spirit and a bitter outlook on life. She hopes to start in Skyrim with a clean slate, but soon finds herself headed for the executioner. However, a chance encounter with an eccentric, albino Dark Elf may very well save her life. Read along as their irrational personalities collide and thrust them into insane journeys together.
1. Prologue

**Author's note: I suppose this should be where I state that I don't own Skyrim, nor any of the mentioned characters/scenarios.  
I got my information from a timeline on the Elder Scrolls Wiki page. Thank you so much for viewing and please feel free to review.**

Jan-Tu IV was an Argonian who came from a long line of other rather unlucky Argonians. Her misfortunes, it seemed, spawned from a certain series of events that her great-grandmother (the original Jan-Tu) got herself into. That huge mess with Martin Septim all started simply because Jan-Tu had been caught breaking into an Imperial City inn. She was tossed in jail that fateful night and the rest spiraled out of control, thanks to Uriel Septim VII and his grand plan to die. From then on, her Argonian bloodline was doomed. After the battle with Mehrunes Dagon, Jan-Tu was known throughout all of Cyrodiil. However, she remained settled-down in her little cabin found in Leyawiin and married a simple Argonian merchant. Thus, Jan-Tu II was born. Or, preferably, hatched.

Now, the Fourth Era had begun and was well on it's way when the first Jan-Tu decided to have a kid. Divines know why she waited so long. Anyway, time came and went, and Jan-Tu II was only good for one thing: wasting money. She used up all of the riches her dear mother had earned and provided. Eventually, the original Jan-Tu died off, and along with her the wealth of their family. Jan-Tu II was a late child-bearer, as well. Out came Jan-Tu III, born into poverty. It would be safe to say that Jan-Tu III didn't care for her parents. Really and truly, they meant nothing to her. So when the Great War broke out and Leyawiin was the first city in Cyrodiil to go, Jan-Tu III abandoned her ancestor's roots. Leaving Leyawiin behind and heading for Hammerfell, Jan-Tu III accidentally produced a child at quite a young age. Therefore, Jan-Tu IV grew up in the odd tavern and inn.

When the Second Treaty of Stros M'Kai was signed, Aldmeri occupational forces in Hammerfell agreed to leave, which meant the end of Jan-Tu III's life. Jan-Tu IV witnessed her mother's murder at the hand of an Aldmeri soldier caravan. As for her father, well, he fled without a second thought of her. Thus, Jan-Tu IV was on her own.

Nevermind her broken past, because Jan-Tu IV cares about as much as Jan-Tu III did. At any rate, Jan-Tu IV seemed to prefer being alone. Her hatred of the Aldmeri Dominion combined with her lack of anywhere else to go drove her to cross over into Skyrim. Or, at least try to. And that is where our story begins.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Yet again stating that I don't own Skyrim or claim to own it. **  
**The rights of the scenarios, characters and species all go to the Elder Scrolls franchise.**  
**I deeply appreciate anyone who may be reading this, and once more, feel free to review. Thank you.**

Jan-Tu IV shifted her butt around on the wooden bench in an attempt to avoid splinters in her tail. She watched the forest go by as the cart she was in jostled along the stony path. The restraints that held her wrists tight kept her from moving her arms very much. The same went for the filthy criminals that joined her in the cart.

'Shipped off to Helgen,' Jan-Tu IV thought. 'Either to be jailed or killed. Following in my ancestor's footsteps just fine, aren't I?' she scowled.

"Hey, lizard," the Nordic murderer adjacent to Jan-Tu IV nudged her. She didn't acknowledge that he had even spoken. "Hey!" he tried again. Still no response. "Oh, I get it. You lizards' stuck up attitudes. Fine. What's your name, Argonian?"

"Jan-Tu IV, if you must know. How about yours?" she questioned.

"I like to call myself the Razor. Skinning is my specialty." He smirked at her, revealing some rotten and missing teeth.

"That's nice," Jan-Tu IV gagged through his cloud of foul breath that could knock a mammoth unconscious in seconds. The weak smile that she returned made the Razor chuckle.

"Where do you suppose we're going?" a small time Breton thief piped up.

"Probably to be thrown in prison for the rest of our lives. We are criminals, aren't we?" Jan-Tu IV explained bitterly. The thief swallowed hard. Then the three felons turned to the fourth member of their cart.

"Oi. Who are you?" the Razor spat in the direction of their fellow, yet unknown, law-breaker. He was Argonian, too.

"I'm from the Dark Brotherhood, fools!" he hissed. "I won't go to jail. You'll see! My brothers and sisters will come for me. They won't leave me here in the hands of these Imperial scum!"

"Whatever you say, eh friend?" the Razor shrugged.

"I'm not your friend! I kill people like you in my free time! People like you, you pretend killers, you wannabe assassins, you-"

"Shut up back there!" the driver of the coach ordered. So silence fell.


	3. Chapter 2

**I don't own Skyrim or anything described in the chapter below.  
All rights to the Elder Scrolls series and it's Bethesda creators.  
****Thanks for reading and review as you please.**

Late morning was breaking as the prisoner caravan rode into Helgen. Jan-Tu IV glanced at the bridge upon entry. She saw none other than General Tullius.

'This isn't good…' she thought to herself. Absentmindedly, Jan-Tu IV pulled at her bindings, fear blossoming in her chest. And like ivy, it spread.

"Eheheheh, head honcho. You know what that meeeeeeaaaannnssss…" the Razor giggled in a disturbing manner. He lifted his shackled hands and ran a finger across his neck, imitating the sound of an axe. The Breton thief's pupil dilated, and he wriggled desperately.

"Try not to piss yourself, alright?" Jan-Tu IV snapped at him, quite insensitively. She feigned indifference in the face of death to calm her nerves and thumping heart. It didn't work.

The carts rumbled through the streets of Helgen, coming to a stop in a courtyard. Jan-Tu IV's cart was the first to halt, and two more followed behind it. The prisoners clambered out of the wooden wagons and formed lines, obeying the Imperials' commands. Then they were herded over to the chopping block.

Giving the crowd a surprise, General Tullius personally announced the arrival of Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. He was about to jump into a long-winded rant when a _boom_ shook the world. Citizens cried out in confusion, but the soldiers hastily quieted them down. Without a second thought, Tullius decided to initiate the bloodshed.

Jan-Tu IV then realized that she was standing right next to the Jarl himself. She gave him a sideways look and they made eye contact. Impulsively, Jan-Tu IV blinked, and Ulfric gave her the strangest stare. Maybe he thought she winked at him. Jan-Tu IV silently cursed herself.

The execution continued. First to die, a Stormcloak. A loud one, too. He ranted about not having time for the blessings of the Eight Divine, and how his ancestors smiled at him. What a Nord.

With blood squirting from his neck, the Stormcloak's corpse slumped. The woman captain kicked his body aside and her soldiers didn't even bother to clear the carcass away. Then, the Imperial Captain opened her mouth to call another victim forward.

Jan-Tu IV's lungs constricted. Though she didn't quite believe in them, her heart was going out to any local Divine that might have been willing to save her scales.

"Next!" the Captain shouted. "You there, the Dark Elf." Another rumble echoed tremendously. People glanced around nervously, but only an Imperial soldier vocalized their thoughts.

"There it is again. Did you hear that?" he whimpered.

Completely ignoring him, the Captain proceeded. "I _said_, next prisoner!"

Exhaling in temporary relief, Jan-Tu IV watched the sad sap shuffle forward. The Dark Elf was an outlandish one; she was white as the rolling clouds above. An albino. They were an uncommon sight. She had bright red hair and pure black eyes that shone with fright. The Dunmer faltered, eyeing the still-glistening chopping block. Another Imperial soldier came up behind her and pushed her forward. Digging her heels into the ground, the Dark Elf resisted.

"Stop messing around, you waste of flesh!" the captain demanded. She stalked up to the albino and gripped her shirtfront, hauling her scrawny butt to the executioner. Once there, the Elf knelt. "Bring it down," the Imperial captain instructed.

Suddenly, General Tullius shrieked. "What in Oblivion is that?!"

Everyone's eyes turned skyward, and a roar that shook the mountains resonated through town. One could hear boulders breaking loose of their previously fixed locations and tumbling to the earth. But no one was troubled by the rocks. More so, they worried about the dragon that swooped down from the heavens and landed on a nearby tower. It dropped it's maw and released a blast so powerful that Jan-Tu IV was convinced that her soul had left her.

The executioner collapsed, unintentionally sparing the Dark Elf rarity. Much of the crowd of criminals had fallen as well, either out of instability or sheer terror. In one movement of utter panic, the masses began to flee. Residents mingled with prisoners as fear ran rampant.

Absurdity ensued and Jan-Tu IV struggled to grasp what was really going on. She clasped her hands over her ear-holes and shook her head viciously, trying to block out the sharp ringing in her ears. Not knowing what else to do, she searched frantically for somewhere to hide. A white blur caught her eye, and Jan-Tu IV saw it enter a watchtower across the way. Blindly chasing what she suspected to be the albino, Jan-Tu IV stumbled into the keep and slammed the door shut behind her.

A couple of people huddled around an either wounded or dead man. They didn't notice Jan-Tu IV's appearance, or if they did, they didn't acknowledge it. Anyway, she slapped her feet on the stone stairs, putting as much distance as she could between her and the dragon. Climbing up multiple flights of steps, Jan-Tu IV made it to a landing with a gaping hole torn through the cement wall. Without too many options to pick from, Jan-Tu IV wildly plunged through a burning roof into a house below.

"Aggghhh!" she howled, a scorching wood plank raking against her leg. Besides her shin, Jan-Tu IV managed to land in the second floor unscathed. She leapt to her feet and loped to the first floor, exiting the premises.

Outside, Imperial guards were swarming. People littered the town, mostly dead and some were dying. Survivors, however few, were steered to safety by the soldiers. Pursuing the same white streak she had seen beforehand, Jan-Tu IV dodged small fires and rubble. The dragon didn't seem to be nigh as she dashed through Helgen.

Finally slowing from a flat-out sprint, Jan-Tu IV scanned the square she had entered. A wall with archers perched on it was crumbling to her left, and two buildings rose in front of her, still intact. Pushing for the door closest to her, Jan-Tu IV stumbled inside.

She was greeted by three corpses, two of them floating in pools of their own freshly-spilt blood. The Stormcloak, dead up against the wall, had died earlier than the two Imperials. One body was just your average guard, but the second was the Imperial Captain.

"Who's the waste of flesh now?" Jan-Tu IV sneered to herself. She hurriedly looted the bodies, stripping down and yanking their armor on as quickly as possible. She hooked one of their swords to her belt for good measure.

Jan-Tu IV crept through a gate that was swung open, placing her hand on one wall. The hall eventually sloped downward, expanding into a torture chamber. More Imperials were strewn all over the room and their remains were still warm. She was gaining on the albino. Stepping cautiously over them, the Argonian turned a corner into yet another tunnel. Jan-Tu IV thought she heard voices ahead, and sped up. Good thing, too, because the ceiling toppled in on itself as soon as she passed. One rock caught her in the back and she fell, but she was not immobilized.

Shakily standing back up, Jan-Tu IV brushed the dust off of herself and continued on. The passageway morphed into a spacious cavern, and a stream trickled by. Tracing the brook's path, she found another underground corridor that branched away from the little creek.

An uneasy feeling writhed around in Jan-Tu IV's stomach. She didn't have any experience when it came to Skyrim, therefore she hadn't a clue what to expect in the caves. Just as her mind was easing, she crawled into another 'room', if you will. Dozens of giant spiders lay twitching in death.

Nearly failing at keeping her feeble prisoner's lunch down, Jan-Tu IV scurried off, ironically much like a spider would. Thinking herself safe, she exhaled loudly. This breath was cut short, though, because that was when she caught sight of the bear. Her eyes widened immensely. She didn't know what to do.

'Suppose you creep on by,' Jan-Tu IV tried to coax herself. Steeling her nerves, she crouched low to the mossy ground and moved slowly, her stomach brushing the soil. 'Halfway there,' she thought in desperation. Then suddenly, voices echoed from deeper in the passage.

"That was a close one," she heard a man chuckle loudly. Jan-Tu IV's heart stopped. 'No, please,' she begged silently. _'No!'_

Of course, that last outburst of laughter was enough to wake the bear. Jan-Tu IV whipped her head around, watching in horror as the grizzly spotted her. It charged.

"God's blood!" she screeched, scrambling up and fumbling with the sword at her hip. Jan-Tu IV brandished the wickedly sharp point, but the bear was coming too fast. She dove to the side and rolled away, springing up to fight. The bear lumbered around in confusion for a moment, giving Jan-Tu IV a prime window of opportunity to stab the sword hilt-deep into the creature's back. It reared up on two legs, almost doubling in size. The Argonian shrunk away, unable to remove her sword from it's flesh.

"Xuth!" Jan-Tu IV spat some profanity at the bear. It spun around, throwing it's paws out and effortlessly tossing her aside. Jan-Tu IV crashed onto a pile of rocks and groaned in agony. The bear seemed offended by her display of discomfort, so it shook it's head and growled. It ran straight for her. All Jan-Tu IV could do was scoot away until her back hit a wall. She cringed and directed every vulgar word that she knew at the buffoon who woke the bear up in the first place. A brilliant, insane idea exploded in her brain, and with nothing left to lose Jan-Tu IV went with it.

Waiting until the bear got closer, she flung her body off to the side. As she had hoped, her opponent's head was crushed on impact by the cavern wall. Bear brains never looked so good.

Jan-Tu IV fell back and cackled maniacally. "I did it! I'm alive!" Tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes because she was laughing so hard. Once her emotional breakdown had run it's course, she went through the next tunnels almost luxuriously. Even the Imperial corpses that she passed didn't bother her.

The smell of clean, wilderness air enticed her. Jan-Tu IV forgot her woes and injuries. All that mattered was getting aboveground. She peered around an outcropping and glorious sunlight blinded her. There was a large fissure with rays shining through. Lurching awkwardly, Jan-Tu IV hurled herself onto the muddy path outside. She remained still for several long moments, but that was just fine. Dirt was paradise.


	4. Chapter 3

**No, I still don't own Skyrim, or the Elder Scrolls series.  
I simply own my original characters. Please, feel free to read and review.  
Thanks, and enjoy!  
**

* * *

Eventually, Jan-Tu IV staggered to her feet. There was no time to waste. Dusk was already falling, though the sun lingered quite high in the sky. Her tail thrashed impatiently and she plodded forward.

The sun had nearly set when she reached Riverwood. Pattering over to a lumber mill, Jan-Tu IV tried to find any residents who might have been able to give her some directions. A group of four people were gathered around a tree stump, but Jan-Tu IV could tell that a couple of the folks were bidding farewell. Two men started her way, and the Argonian rushed to get off of the small bridge she was standing on. When she looked up, she saw the albino Dark Elf.

"Hey!" Jan-Tu IV called. Startled, the two women turned to her. Their eyes widened as they noticed the Imperial armor the Argonian had adorned. "You were in Helgen. I was too," she explained. Realizing that they were gawking at her armor, Jan-Tu IV shook her head. "I'm not an Imperial; I just took this from one of the dead ones."

"Sorry, I don't remember you," the Dark Elf said uncomfortably.

"Most likely not. I was one of the prisoners, waiting to get their heads lopped off. I saw you go up to the chopper when that dragon came." The Argonian approached them, giving her name. "I'm Jan-Tu IV."

"I'm Natiri," the Dunmer responded.

"My name is Gerdur," the Nordic woman included herself in the conversation. "So you say you were in Helgen, lizard. How did you escape?"

Ignoring Gerdur's use of 'lizard', Jan-Tu IV replied, "I followed Natiri and some other man. I didn't know where else to go." She wouldn't say it, but Jan-Tu IV figured that trailing the Dark Elf had saved her life.

"I never noticed you were even there. You're pretty good at being invisible," Natiri commended her.

"Well, I'm Argonian, what'd you expect?" Jan-Tu IV croaked and shrugged. An awkward silence arose, but Gerdur interrupted it.

"Why don't you stay with us, stranger? I'd be happy to give you supplies. You look like you need a place to rest your head."

"Provisions would be more than enough, thank you. I'll definitely take you up on your offer. As for sleep, though…I don't. I-"

"You don't sleep?" the Dark Elf interjected. "That's crazy!"

"I never said I was sane," Jan-Tu IV spoke drily. "I suppose I'm abnormal that way. I'm not sure how to explain it. Sure, I get tired. Exhausted, even. But I never sleep. Can't remember the last time that I did."

"I reckon that people can't control their habits. If your body says it don't want sleep, you ought to listen to it," Gerdur advised. Jan-Tu IV nodded. "Come on now, and we'll get you two fed." The group of three marched to Hod and Gerdur's house while night fell. Upon arrival, Natiri sighed in relief. Her eyes softened when she saw an actual bed to sleep in.

"Whatever you need, if you see it, feel free to take it. Just don't rob us blind," Gerdur chuckled.

"How can I thank you?" Natiri asked. She was massively grateful for the hospitality.

"Hmm. If what you say is true, then a dragon is loose on Skyrim. Riverwood -being mostly built of wood- is in grave danger. A single dragon attack could mean the end of our village. Would you be so kind as to notifying the Jarl of Whiterun of our situation? Perhaps he will send some guards." Gerdur looked guilty to be asking the Dark Elf of anything, but Natiri was glad.

"Of course, it would be my honor," she grinned, which was an odd sight, since the Elf's teeth were nearly as white her skin. Jan-Tu IV shifted clumsily, simply wanting to gather her promised goods and leave. She feigned a smile at Gerdur, who brought out some supplies and then succumbed to slumber.

Jan-Tu IV and Natiri picked through the Nord family's belongings, refusing to break the silence and speak to each other. They both grabbed for a lantern, though, and had no choice.

"My apologies," the Argonian said, her hand reeling back.

"No, go ahead, I insist," the Dark Elf reassured.

"It's fine, take it. I have decent vision at night anyway," Jan-Tu IV informed.

"I've got _this_," Natiri's eyes lit up in excitement as she raised her left hand. An orb of fire rested in her palm, spitting flecks here and there.

"Whoaaa there, let's not be irrational. Put the fire down, alright?" Jan-Tu IV persuaded. She set her jagged teeth on edge, tensed up by the fire's hazardous presence.

"Well I'm not gonna _use_ it. I'm not stupid," Natiri defended herself, glancing down at her feet.

"I never said you were stupid," the Argonian snapped. "I just didn't want you to set this whole town on fire. If one house went up in flames, they'd all go."

"Yeah, yeah," Natiri agreed. "Hey, do you want to travel together? You know, we have to tell the Jarl about the dragon-"

"Erm, we? You volunteered for that little trek yourself," Jan-Tu IV smirked.

"I was trying to be friendly, okay? You seem like a loner, I imagined you might like company for once." Natiri regarded the Argonian with pity.

"Trust me, I don't need any companions," Jan-Tu IV murmured. Her large yellow eyes narrowed.

The albino dipped her head and obeyed Jan-Tu IV's wishes, leaving her be. She collapsed into a bed and almost instantly fell asleep. Jan-Tu IV exhaled quietly and finished stuffing her knapsack. A full, bulbous moon hung high among the stars.

Dropping her bag outside of the door, Jan-Tu IV traipsed to the lumber mill. She handled a woodcutting axe and began hacking. And she kept at it for hours. Finally it was late morning and Hod made his way to the mill. Seeing the Argonian's multiple piles of firewood, he drew near.

"I'll buy all the wood you can chop," he commented.

"Go ahead," Jan-Tu IV struck up a deal. She received some hefty gold in return. Ready to head off, she returned to her bag and stashed her coins away in a bulky pocket. She waved to Hod and Gerdur in appreciation, then started down the stone road.

Not too far along, she concluded that someone was shadowing her. Without wanting to make it obvious that she knew, Jan-Tu IV proceeded to Whiterun. Her view of the city was striking as the path wound about a mountain. Howling echoed in the crisp morning air, and Jan-Tu IV stiffened. She unsheathed her sword and inhaled acutely in an attempt to locate the wolf. It rushed from the bushes just as she spun around, her tail whipping it across the face. The predator growled and backed up, and Jan-Tu IV closed in. The wolf lunged at her throat, but Jan-Tu IV's reflexes proved agile. She caught it in a bear-hug and then thwacked it's neck repeatedly with her sword. After, she tossed the carcass to the ground, wiping the blood off of her black, scaled hands.

"Watch out!" a familiar voice cried, rustling through the woods. Jan-Tu IV turned in the general direction of the sound just in time to see a skeever launch itself at her. By then it was too late; the Argonian could only raise her arm in her own defense. The oversized rat willingly latched onto her forearm, puncturing Jan-Tu IV's semi-armored skin.

"Gah!" she screamed, throwing her arm this way and that. The skeever would not let go.

"Let me get it!" Natiri insisted. Jan-Tu IV shot her a murderous look, but exposed her arm so Natiri could rid her of the creature. Pain still pulsed from the wound and Jan-Tu IV silently begged for it to be over soon. She squeezed her eyes shut and was grinding her teeth to keep from shrieking. Her tail thrashed and trembled.

Suddenly, sweet bliss dawned on her; the skeever had removed it's enormous buck teeth from deep in her flesh. The throbbing worsened, though. Afraid to open her own eyes and witness what happened, Jan-Tu IV piped up.

"What's wrong? What did you do?" she hissed, addressing Natiri.

"This is bad. Oh no…" Natiri muttered rapidly.

"What?!" Jan-Tu IV wailed.

"I may have accidentally…shot you in the arm," the albino cringed.

Jan-Tu IV's voice became deadly calm. "So you relied on you archery skills to kill a skeever."

"There was no way I was getting near that filthy bag of vermin! They spread all sorts of disease!"

"How much training do you have in archery?" Jan-Tu IV continued.

"…None…" Natiri answered nervously.

"Get me to a healer," the Argonian ordered. "_Now!_"

Natiri led Jan-Tu IV to a temple of healing in Whiterun. She would be safe there.

The Dark Elf was on the verge of leaving when Jan-Tu IV grasped Natiri's arm with an iron fist. She beckoned for Natiri to lean in closer. In a voice softer than a whisper, Jan-Tu IV threatened the albino.

"When I recover from this -which I will, by the way- I intend to slaughter you with my bare hands. Beware, my imprudent Dunmer. We Argonians can hold grudges. I will hunt you down," she snarled. Not entirely sure how to react, Natiri merely forced a laugh that was more closely related to a cough, patted the Argonian on her scaly head, and departed.


	5. Chapter 4

**I don't own any of the mentioned story lines or characters.  
All rights go to Bethesda and the other creators of Skyrim.  
Sorry for the delay, my schedule has been hectic.  
Thank you so much for reading, please enjoy.**  
**Also, I will be creating an image for my story very soon**. **Stay tuned.**

* * *

Natiri explored within the city walls. Whiterun divided itself by levels, the first sector being stores and a market, second being the housing district and, finally, a stone staircase that wound up to the palace. The Dark Elf couldn't get her mouth to close, even if she tried. Her black eyes glittered, fascination halting her breaths. Never had she seen such a glorious hold.

Wandering up to Dragonsreach, Natiri recalled the task Gerdur had given her. The albino pushed through the looming wooden doors and approached the throne. However, she was intercepted by another Dark Elf, apparently named Irileth. Startled by the woman's sudden advancement, Natiri flinched and staggered back. Irileth spoke in sharp, impatient bursts. She demanded that Natiri say why she had come. Explaining that she was here to inform the Jarl of the recent dragon attack, Natiri was allowed to step nearer.

At first, Jarl Balgruuf was silent. He scratched his beard and gazed at the albino, torn between concern and confusion.

"Sir?" Natiri prompted.

"Don't rush him!" a weasel-like man ordered from the corner.

Natiri scoffed in response. "And who do you think _you_ are, my high-pitched acquaintance?"

"How dare you! I am the steward of this renowned hold, you Dunmer scum! Why don't you drag yourself back to whatever pit you crawled out of in th-"

"Silence, Proventus!" the Jarl commanded. "This traveler sought us out on their own accord. For that, she should be rewarded." He stood and gestured for Natiri to follow him. "I have something else that you might be interested in. My court wizard, Farengar, has a mission that could be in your area of expertise."

"To be blatantly honest, Jarl, I don't have any expertise, I just-"

"Nonsense! You'll be perfect for the job," Balgruuf beamed. The albino hung her head and wondered just what she had gotten herself into. As she had attempted to say before, she had no talents whatsoever. Her only skill was screwing up.

Natiri raised her head when the wizard began speaking. She tried focusing on his introductory rant, but a fly was buzzing in the corner of the room, there were bookshelves loaded with novels she'd kill to get her hands on, the small of her back was itching, and nervous beads of sweat were seeping into her leather boots. There were too many distractions, and her attention span was minute.

"So? Will you do it?" the court wizard prodded. Natiri's eyes widened in confusion. She had completely zoned out. She didn't have a clue as to what the mage was asking of her.

A warm smile spread across her face. "Of course, I'd be glad to. Remind me again where I'm going?"

The happiness melted off of her face when Farengar relayed the information back to her, though. Delving into Bleak Falls Barrow? Natiri had never done anything like that before. Would it be dark? She feared darkness. There was no way that she could do this on her own.

"Off to Bleak Falls Barrow with you! The Jarl is not a patient man, and neither am I." He shooed her away and returned to his alchemy table.

Jan-Tu IV was just coming to when a priest suddenly appeared above her. A hiss escaped through her triangular teeth and she shrunk back into her pillow.

"Why was I unconscious?" she spat. "Only my arm was injured. What did you do to me?" Jan-Tu IV leapt to her feet and snapped her tail like a whip. Her aggressive paranoia put the healer on edge.

"You probably don't recall, but as we were removing the arrow you demanded we put you under some anesthetic. You were screaming so much, we had no other choice."

Jan-Tu IV chose not to argue. As a matter of fact, the priest was probably right. She could barely remember anything after arriving in Whiterun. Angry heat coursed through her body as the memory of Natiri popped up in her brain. That albino was a serious pain in her-

"Will that be all, miss?" the priest interrupted Jan-Tu IV's thoughts.

"Um, yes. Thank you for all of your help. I'm assuming you need compensation..?"

"No, no payment is necessary. We have a strict donations-only policy. All we ask of each visitor is to spread the word of Kynareth to the world."

"… Sure thing," Jan-Tu IV said slowly. She gave an uncomfortable little wave and tripped over her tail while exiting through the door. Her rough and worn feet scraped on the stone walkways as she drifted through town. Careful to keep her knapsack slung over her uninjured shoulder, Jan-Tu IV glanced around in the market place. Her eyes settled on a tavern, somewhere decent where she could relax for the night.

Upon entry, the scent of wine and sweet rolls filled Jan-Tu IV's nostrils. She gazed around the cozy room, full of people sitting at tables or by the fire that crackled cheerily in the center. Out of nowhere, a woman hurriedly ran up to her and offered her drinks or a meal. Startled, Jan-Tu IV recoiled and declined. She was never very hungry, anyway.

A fellow Argonian manned the bar counter. Jan-Tu IV moved toward her, asking about room vacancies. After paying, Jan-Tu IV was led to a room off to the side. It was a little barren, but otherwise pleasantly decorated with furniture. She placed her knapsack on the bedside table.

Once she had established her room, Jan-Tu IV decided to do some stretches. She tested her previously wounded arm. It was still sore, but she could definitely manage moving it around. When she was done warming up, Jan-Tu IV ventured into the main tavern area. She picked a spot on a nearby bench, then soaked up the heat and glow from the flames. Later on she found herself swaying to the quiet tune of the local bard. It was a most pleasant experience to just stop, and listen.

Glancing at the door, Jan-Tu IV noticed Natiri enter the tavern. The Argonian hurriedly pulled a hood over her head, staring at the floor. Her highly attuned ears picked up on the conversation Natiri was having with the bartender.

"Hi there, I'm looking for my friend. She's an Argonian, quite short, really skinny and she's got these dark, pitch-black scales. Huge, bulging yellow eyes. Kind of a 'peer-into-your-soul' type thing going on. Seen anything of her?"

"I might have. Though I can't be sure…" the bartender croaked.

"Alright, alright, here's some coin you greedy lizard-" a fist pounded on the counter, interrupting Natiri's insult.

"We're Argonians," Jan-Tu IV scoffed. "Refer to us that way, you disrespectful slime."

"There you are Jan-Tu! I've been searching for you," the albino waved off the rude remark. "I need your help with something. It's top secret work, given to me personally. By the _Jarl_. You interested yet? Huh?" she elbowed Jan-Tu IV in the ribs.

"Why would I ever want to help you? You shot me in the arm!"

"That's not fair. It was an accident! I thought we were past this," Natiri whined.

"No, no we're not 'past this.' You should recall that I threatened to kill you if I ever caught a glimpse of your pale mug again!" Jan-Tu IV snapped.

"But the Jarl-"

"No! You're crazy! You- You've got this insane delusion that we're friends, but we're not! I don't even know you! All I did was follow you to get the hell out of Helgen, okay?!" The Argonian threw her arms back in exasperation, unintentionally smacking an Orc in the face.

"You bottom-feeding scum bucket! Did you just hit me?" he growled, towering over her.

"Oh, n-no, good sir, it's merely a misunderstanding, I-I didn't mean to- it just so happens that- I assure you it was an accident, wrong place wrong time, obviously." Jan-Tu IV stuttered anxiously and attempted to dust off the Orc's sack-cloth tunic.

"_Obviously,_ she did hit you. I mean, you felt her hand smack your face, right? Or is your face just so ugly that you've become numb to pain, especially the agony of having to live with an appearance like that?" Natiri butted in. Jan-Tu IV looked back incredulously.

"What do you think you're doing?" she whispered.

"Come on, someone give me a scum bucket, I think I'm gonna vomit if I have to watch this abomination continue to exist." Natiri wouldn't stop dishing it out. That is, until the Orc's fist was down her throat.


End file.
